The New Probie
by WalkerShawna
Summary: NCIS Probationary Agent Emily Campbell and the team have a case at Norfolk of a dead submariner dissolved in an acid vat on her first day. She meets Tim McGee, a NCIS agent assigned to the Norfolk Naval Base, after calling him a marshmallow to DiNozzo, and despite that comment, the two develop a friendship. [Partial Summary]
1. Chapter 1: My Husband's Murder

**Author's Note: After I finished writing this, I realized that the timing might be confusing, so I wrote this in to clarify—I know that Tim came before Palmer did, for my people who love the series. McGee shows up in "Sub Rosa" (S1E7) while Palmer's dorky self doesn't come on the scene until "Split Decision" (S1E21). I put Palmer in at the beginning, because Gerald got on my nerves and I didn't want to have to work with him. The specific date it gives later on is December 16** **th** **, 2004. That's the date I'm using for the purposes of this.**

I was beginning at NCIS today, as a Probationary Agent, and I would be a liar if I said I wasn't nervous. I dressed in a white sweater dress, a vanilla pea coat, and tan tights with caramel colored ballet flats. I dressed this way because it was mid-December in Washington D.C, and I was bearing the coldest weather I had ever experienced in my entire life.

See, I was born and raised in Louisiana, but had lived in the Arizona desert, and the Texas Panhandle for most of my adult life. This was the coldest I'd ever been, but I took the _grin and bear it_ philosophy. After all, I decided to join NCIS—the real team, not the field office—and the real team was here, in D.C.

 _Maybe I can ask them for tips on surviving the winter here._ I thought randomly, while knowing that I couldn't ask that question now. I was just a stranger, and they might not trust me. They'd have every reason not to, I supposed, with me never having worked for another NCIS office, or any federal law enforcement agency, like the FBI.

I did work for the Louisiana State Police as a SWAT team member, though, so that gave me some experience with engaging suspects; it was the investigating where I was completely out of my element, so I would likely just stick behind the nicest person and hope this Gibbs guy didn't even notice me.

I heard that he was hell to deal with—always either gruff or snappy—and immediately thought of a woman constantly on her period (not that I would ever tell him that—I wanted to end my first day alive, thank you). I started thinking of ways to butter him up, like getting him coffee.

It was a 29 minute drive from my farm in Seabrook, Maryland to Washington D.C. and it was made a little longer by the fact that I had to make a detour to stop by Starbucks. There wasn't one on my route, so I had to wait until I reached D.C. and then take the detour to the closest Starbucks to headquarters—1730 Pennsylvania Avenue Northwest.

I was deaf—born with auditory nerves that didn't function—so I had to go inside to place my order and it was snowing heavily. It made for an awesome Kodak moment, but also made for horrible driving conditions. I snapped a picture of it and sent it to my brother, Stephen.

He and his husband, David, who we called Dave, lived in Phoenix, Arizona—in the middle of the Arizona desert—so they would find the snowfall hilarious, even as I detested it. They'd laugh at my expense. I captioned the picture like this:

 _So I saw my first snowfall…it's been an eventful day already and I haven't even gotten to NCIS yet._

I then pocketed my phone, pulled my new fleece gloves on and tried to run in; there wasn't any ice, although it was snowing heavily now. I ran into the Starbucks as fast as I could to escape the snow.

It was about then that I realized I had no idea what Gibbs' coffee preferences were, so I eventually opted for just the normal Dark Roast and bagged several creams and sugars for him—so that he could fix up his coffee however he liked.

I got three more regular coffees—these Pike Roasts—for DiNozzo, Todd, and Dr. Mallard, for me, I got my favorite Frappucino—a Mocha Frappucino with almond milk instead of regular, and no whipped cream because I was severely allergic to dairy. I also grabbed an extra Caramel Frap as an afterthought.

I paid for all these and then hightailed it to NCIS. The process was made much faster by the fact that I had a black 2013 Kia Optima that was able to take my lead foot philosophy with driving and translate it into actual speed rather than into a strange whining noise like my old truck did.

Special Agents Tony DiNozzo and Kate Todd were peeping out the window, as the new Probie, Emily Campbell, came up the steps to NCIS with coffee cups in her hands and a NCIS backpack on her back.

"Probie's hot." Tony commented. "Like wow."

"Yeah. If I wasn't straight…" Kate whispered.

"And she's got a heart. She brought us coffee."

"Oh, yay." Kate said sardonically. "It's Starbucks, too."

"Thank Jesus."

I had a new badge that let me into the building and as I came in with the large cardboard tray full of coffee, a young man with dark hair looked as though he was about to seize me by my hair and kiss me.

 **Good morning.** I signed to him. **Coffee?**

Each cup was clearly marked with a name.

Tony

Kate

Dr. Mallard

Gibbs

Caramel Frappuccino

My coffee was marked with my name—Emily—and I held it in my left hand, as I offered the cardboard cupholder to him. He picked up the cup with Tony written on it; this was Tony, then, and I looked at him quickly to study his face. I would need to know what he looked like.

The idea was that they would choose the cup with their name on it, and hopefully, I got their coffee right. I watched as he took a careful drink, and then his eyes popped wide open—he wasn't expecting the coffee to be that strong—and I just grinned as he smiled, and held two thumbs up.

I did a little happy dance.

He pulled out a piece of paper, and began writing on it with a pen. Thanks for the coffee, but who are you?

I'm Emily Alison Campbell, NCIS Probationary Agent, and the deaf but kickass individual who has recently been hired on to the Major Crimes Response Team. I am a black belt in three different types of Asian martial arts, am a former Marine, can sharp shoot from behind my back, and have an unhealthy addiction to Starbucks and coffee.

Cool. That's awesome. I'm NCIS Special Agent Tony DiNozzo.

DiNozzo. You're Italian.

That's right.

My phone suddenly vibrated in my pocket, and I pulled it out to check it. It was Steph and all he sent back was the laugh face emoji with tears coming out of the eyes. I rolled mine at the phone, and saw Tony grin as he took another drink of his coffee. A gray-haired man stormed in from the side door and said something before walking off to his desk without even bothering to notice me.

This was the seemingly all-knowing Gibbs, then. It was not that surprising, though, that he was as bitchy as he seemed to be. What I didn't expect was him to be so rude.

So brash.

So _do it my way or go away_.

Well, he might be the leader of the team and my boss, but he wasn't the owner of me. I slammed his cup of coffee down on the desk, not spilling a drop nor burning my hands, although the cup was open. He looked up at me, his blue eyes sharp as they pierced my own green ones.

 **There's a difference between being bitchy and just being rude, you know.** I signed, not caring whether he understood me or not.

 _ **And what is that difference?**_

 **If you're having a bad day, being bitchy is normal. Being rude as a default emotion when you actually are a cold, unfeeling robot is different. Here's your damn coffee and thanks for not even caring to introduce yourself to a deaf person when you are one of the few here who understand my language.**

I then walked away, getting into the open elevator, and pressing the _Morgue_ button. It took me all the way down to Autopsy, where it opened to a glass window that two men—an elder and a much younger—were staring at me, as I stomped out the side door that read _Exit_. For good measure, I slammed the door behind me.

My eyes burned a little as I stepped out into the sunlight that reflected off the piles of snow that were taller than me, in some cases, but then again, most things that existed were taller than me. I was only 4 foot 9 inches tall, but had a fearful temper (kudos to _The Quiet Man_ ) that would explode at the tiniest little thing.

Like when people who understood sign language were rude assholes.

I nearly fell to my knees, and started crying. Here I was, in Washington, D.C. when my heart had been left behind at my husband, Adam's grave in New Orleans, Louisiana two months ago. He had been murdered.

Adam was the person who I loved more than life, who I planned to grow old with, and now, he was gone at only 25. I had no idea what I would do with my life or what I wanted out of it now. Only a few minutes later, I saw the door open, and none other than the cold, unfeeling robot come out.

 **Emily, I'm sorry.** He signed carefully, the blue eyes that had pierced mine just a few seconds ago having grown soft and gentle. He sat down next to me, and even put his arms around my shoulders, as I sobbed uncontrollably. **I didn't mean to upset you.**

 _ **It wasn't you. I literally just got here and I'm really vulnerable right now.**_

 **Do you want to talk about it?**

 _ **Well, not really, but it might help me.**_

 **Okay. Tell me about it.**

 _ **My husband was murdered three months ago—that's partly why I came here, to move on from that—and I wanted to start a new life. But I can't forget him, no matter what I try. I gave him everything I had and his death broke my heart into a million tiny pieces. I'm not sure what I want from life, or if I even want to keep on living. I'll move on someday, I hope, but it won't be right now. I have a daughter with him, she's just a baby, and I have to raise her alone now.**_

 **I understand that more than you think I do, Emily. You will move on from his death someday, but you have to let yourself grieve for him first. Giving yourself in to your grief is the hardest part, but you have to do that to get better.**

 _ **I don't grieve well. My form of grieving is usually a bottle of either bourbon or whiskey and a few ill-advised choices that I don't regret until the next morning, when I wake up with the worst hangover ever and a strange man in my bed.**_

 **You like drinking bourbon?**

 _ **I'm from the South, so my favorites are Kentucky bourbon and Jack Daniels' Whiskey. Oh and blueberry moonshine. I am a huge fan of blueberries, however, I don't like the sensation of being drunk. It's super depressing to me.**_

 **Where are you from?**

 _ **Louisiana. I was born in the small town of Port Allen. Its name tells you about its position—it's a port town, with seafood being its biggest industry. I grew up right on the Gulf and my first job at seventeen was as a fisherman on a crab boat. I joined the military, and lived in Mobile, Alabama, San Antonio, Texas, Jackson, Mississippi, and El Paso, Texas in the span of five years during Basic, but I never thought that I would ever be here.**_

 **Where did you and Aaron live before he was killed?**

 _ **We chose to settle in Houston, Texas, and lived there, but also owned an apartment in Baton Rouge. We were both huge fans of LSU, so we loved traveling to home games during football season, and sometimes came back during the summers.**_

Gibbs suddenly looked away from my eyes, which he had been staring intently into, and looked back at the door. He must've heard something that I didn't, and I snapped my head around, to see DiNozzo standing against the wall, speaking to Gibbs because he knew that I was deaf.

I tried to read his lips, but DiNozzo was practically jumping up and down as the Starbucks coffee that I had gotten him hit his bloodstream. Gibbs and I each took drinks of our own coffees, with smiles lighting our eyes—Gibbs through the tiny hole in his coffee cup, and me through the kelly green straw that poked out from the clear plastic lid of my mocha—as we watched him talk, while bouncing on his toes.

We were so similar that it was scary. I gave him only a second's sideways glance as he slipped his hand into my own. He signed against my hand, so as to not interrupt DiNozzo's coffee-fueled, slightly psychotic rambling that was only half-listened to, because I couldn't hear it.

 **What kind of coffee did you get him?**

 _ **Starbucks.**_

 **Hell, he'll be jacked up for hours!**

I grinned. _**That was the idea.**_

 **To get him jacked up on caffeine?**

 _ **No. Well, not exactly. The idea was to get him and the others jacked up on caffeine and send them out on the case. They'll be running around like jackrabbits and hopefully, we'll get the case done quicker. But we'll see about that. In the meantime, what was Tony talking about?**_

 **We have a case. Submariner dissolved in an acid vat in Norfolk.**

 _ **Why the hell would anyone dissolve a submariner in acid? That's torture!**_

 **You'd be surprised at what killers do to their victims now.**

 _ **Not as surprised as you might think. I saw some weird shit when I worked for the Louisiana State Police.**_

 **This is beyond 'weird shit,' there, Emily.**

I supposed that was true. This job _was_ different from LSP, in the sense that our main objective was to investigate deaths. Someone had to die for us to be brought in. That made it both sad and somehow freakier; people who killed often hid their victims in the oddest places. That was why we always packed the heat, and were ready to use it.

That was one thing that I was good at—protection. I could use the heat like none other, and was quite good for what I was. I served in the Marines for fifteen years, and was given an honorable discharge when I found out I was pregnant with my daughter, Raegan Grace.

She was now three months old, having just been the tiniest little baby when her Daddy was killed and was growing like nothing I had ever seen. Tony came to my new desk, while I was putting my favorite picture of my family up on my desk. It showed Adam, me, and Raegan in her baby shots. I was holding her close, while she was dressed in a little yellow dress.

My daughter looked just like her Dad, complete with a tuft of his trademark red hair. DiNozzo looked at the picture and smiled, before writing his piece of conversation on a piece of paper.

Is that your family?

Yeah. That's me, my late husband, Adam, and our daughter, Raegan. That picture was taken just after Rae was born.

Nice picture. What happened to your husband?

He was a Baton Rouge Paramedic, who was shot and killed while trying to save a guy's life after a car accident. Shooter came up behind him, shot him in the head. He was only 25.

I'm really sorry.

It's okay. I won't say that it's easy or that it gets any easier, but I try not to hate him for what he did. I just wish that it hadn't been Adam or anyone else. Rae wouldn't want to know, later in life, that her mom spent her time hating the man who killed her father rather than moving on with her life.

That is true. Would you like to go and meet our Medical Examiner and his assistant?

Sure. Where are we going? Oh, let me guess, the morgue?

You guessed correctly. Let's go.

I walked off, after closing up the drawer in my desk. DiNozzo led me to the elevator and pressed the _Morgue_ button; it took me all the way down to where I went out the first time and he took me into the large room with the glass walls that I had seen before.

There were two men standing there, watching us. One was quite a bit older than the other, with a shock of heavily graying hair and sharp blue eyes that reminded me oddly of Gibbs'. He wore a smile that was eternally patient, though, which was very much _not_ Gibbs, while the other was much younger, with dark, thickly curly hair that was only saved from looking like a mop by frequent trips to the barber shop to have it cut.

He looked like a twelve year old to me, if I was honest with myself, and I was very surprised that he was even in Autopsy. I looked over at Tony, as he spoke to them and I read his lips. _Guys, this is Dr. Emily Campbell, our new Probie. Emily, this is Dr. Donald Mallard, who we call Ducky and his assistant, Jimmy Palmer._

The young guy who looked like he was twelve was the elderly man's _assistant_? That was a shocker. To be a doctor's assistant in any capacity meant that he had to be currently enrolled in medical school. I had to control my shock and not let it show on my face as I held out my hand and signed with the other. **Nice to meet you both. I was born deaf, but am pretty good at reading lips, so please face me and speak clearly if you are talking to me.**

 _Nice to meet you as well, my dear._ The elderly man—Ducky—shook my hand, and . I looked around at the cold metal room, with the large freezers—body coolers—that made me shudder a little. I half-expected whichever body was in there to start climbing out. He smiled. _So what bothers you about this place, Dr. Campbell?_

 **Well, I was an E.R. doctor. I was meant to be keeping people alive, to make sure that they didn't end up here. I suppose the freezers freak me out the most. I probably watched Gravedancers one too many times, though, and am being overly dramatic.**

I smiled. **Of course, with me as a Probie now, I suppose that I have to think about my death a little more. It's actually a possibility, though a distant one, now. My daughter, Raegan, is just a baby, and my husband's already dead, so my hope is that either my brothers or my friends will take her and take care of her when it's my time to go.**

 _Wonderful. You are a mother?_

 **Yes. I am. My little girl is my entire life, really. I would give up my life to save my daughter from whoever or whatever it is that has her in danger.**

 _How old is the little lass?_

 **Three months old. I've raised her alone from practically birth. Her dad died when she was a month old.**

 _I am very sorry for your loss._

 **It's okay. I won't say that it's easy, or that it gets any easier, but my daughter wouldn't want to know, later in life, that I spent any time hating the person who killed her father. Hating him doesn't help anyone—not me, not Raegan, no one—and it gives him a lot of power.**

I saw Tony pick up his phone, and speak into it sharply. More listen than speak, I noticed, and I had one guess as to who that was. Gibbs. It was only after he hung up that he looked at me and motioned that we should go. I nodded, followed him out and upstairs, both of us running. We made it up the four flights of steps in record time, Tony physically heaving after even that little bit of exertion.

 **I think you need a better diet and/or a better exercise plan.** I signed, to him giving me the finger and looking me up and down. I knew he would say something about my size—or lack thereof. I wasn't disappointed.

 _What's wrong with you? Do you ever eat?_

 **Yeah. I eat just like everyone else. I'm a vegetarian, though, so I eat a lot of vegetables, tofu, and stuff.**

 _So you're one of those people?_

I gave him a head slap. **Yeah. My brother calls me a tofu farter.**

 _I'm not trying to be an asshole, but I don't understand why people become vegetarians. Do you just like vegetables that much? I'm confused._

 **I am a big fan of vegetables, yes, but that's not why I stopped eating meat. I stopped eating meat, because I love animals—I'm a huge animal person—and I felt like a hypocrite loving animals while they're alive and then eating them when they're dead.**

 _Oh, okay. I bet Thanksgiving is difficult for you._

 **Not really. My family knows about my vegetarianism.**

Tony and I walked back to the "bullpen," as it was called, I grabbed my backpack from against the side of my desk in the corner, and Gibbs handed me the keys to the NCIS van. I looked at them for a second, before looking back up at him curiously.

 **Know how to drive a van, Campbell?**

 _ **Yeah, but I don't know where Norfolk is.**_

 **It's in Virginia. We have a GPS for you to follow.**

 _ **Okay. Does that mean you want me to drive us all to Norfolk?**_

 **Yeah.**

I took the keys, handed my backpack up to Tony, who was already waiting in the van, Kate and Gibbs got in, and we headed out, with the Medical Examiner's van close behind us.

 **Call McGee.** I told Tony. **Tell him to expect us in about three hours, depending on how fast I drive.**

 _ **You got it, Campbell.**_

I punched on the gas, feeling the van speed up, as Tony dialed McGee's number. As far as I knew, McGee was a Norfolk agent with not a lot of field and weaponry experience, so we'd have to be on his six at all times, in case the shit hit the fan here. As if we didn't also have Ducky and Palmer to protect.

It was sunny and bright as I drove and the sunlight was in my eyes for almost the entirety of the three-hour drive to Norfolk. The scene was as secure as Fort Knox when we got there. NCIS Agents were literally everywhere, and I was immediately enamored with one, specifically.

He stood tall, with a gas mask over his face and tried to blend in with the scenery. He just looked like a dork, but I liked dorky. I didn't understand the gas mask, but he was very attractive otherwise. My guess was that this was McGee—or McGeek, as I thought of him now—and I nudged Tony, and pointed, a question in my eyes.

He nodded.

The motion caught McGeek's attention, and he looked over at me. Tony was giving me the _You've been caught_ look and I glared at him. McGee then met my eyes, his expression immediately softening. He grinned at me.

I grinned back.

Tony brought me over to introduce me to him. He immediately appeared nervous at this, beginning to straighten his jacket, and standing up taller. I looked up at him, as Tony introduced us and he held out his hand. I took it, smiling.

 **It's very nice to meet you, Agent McGee.**

 _You too, Agent Campbell._

Gibbs sent me off to start bagging evidence, and I went obediently. There was tons of evidence on this one—the body, having been nearly dissolved in acid, didn't really give us much, other than the obvious fact that this person had been tortured. Ducky couldn't even tell if the body was male or female.

It was when I was watching him do that that I saw something, spun around and got punched in the head with enough force to knock me to the ground. Ducky and Palmer looked up from their work and Gibbs came to my side, as Tony and Kate did perimeter. Blood was running from my mouth, dripping down my face, but I just let it, even when it was visible on the outside of my mouth.

"NCIS! Freeze!" Tony shouted.

I felt my lips move, but couldn't hear myself. I had to hope that I was saying what I was trying to say. "No! He's mine! Freeze, you bastard, before I put a bullet between your eyes!"

It was when I put a round in my Sig Sauer that the man paused. He looked back at Tony, and then forward at me. We each had a loaded gun pointed at his head and he seemed to realize that he was going to lose badly if Chicken was what he was playing. So he ran off into the wooded area beyond the naval base.

Gibbs and Tony followed him, while I made myself stop, and take out my Sig again. When they came out of the forest, the perp had his hands around Tony's throat, and I smoothly raised the weapon, knowing the exact path and trajectory that the bullet would have to take to eliminate the threat.

Tony looked like you could have bowled him over with a tennis ball as I pointed my gun just to the left of his head. Palmer's eyes were as wide as dinner plates, and Ducky instinctively clutched at his assistant's arm, pulling him ever so slowly back from me, as I went into full Marine mode and dropped a round in my Sig Sauer.

Tony's head snapped down and I shot the perp in the head—clean through the forehead with one bullet. He fell backwards and let go of Tony, who gasped immediately for air and I smiled. I straightened up my jacket, put my Sig back in its holster, as Gibbs ran over to help him, and he accepted his hand to help him up.

 **You all right, DiNozzo?** I asked. DiNozzo nodded, and then looked at Gibbs, as he signed to me. _**What the hell was that? That was brilliant.**_

 **I was a U.S. Marine for fifteen years, Gibbs. My specialty was marksmanship; I am an expert female marksman, with over 3,500 kills to my name.** I smiled. **You can take me out of the military, but you can't take the marksman out of me.**

McGee's green eyes met mine and that gave me pause. He looked surprised at the piece of information. I gave him a small, sharp smile. **I know. Most people don't know that about me, because they like to think that little tiny me can't hurt anyone. I let them think it.**

Ducky and Palmer loaded the badly-dissolved body in their van, while Tony, and Kate collected evidence. Gibbs and I were tasked with taking pictures of the scene to keep for the military trial that was sure to come. It was when we were about to leave that Agent McGee discreetly handed me a piece of paper from behind his back. I carefully pocketed it for later, choosing not to open it in front of the others. I shot him a huge, toothy grin, and patted my pocket. I wouldn't read it until I got back into the van, because I was letting Gibbs drive us all back, since I drove us here.

I rode silently in the backseat, sitting next to Kate and made sure that we had pulled off from the scene before I opened the piece of paper.

Tim McGee

757-136-2597

 **Author's Note: I made up that phone number. If anyone has that number, it was purely out of coincidence. Sorry. Anyway, this is the end of Chapter 1. Tell me what you think about the chapter. What can I do better next time? Any suggestions? Leave me some good reviews—I was really nervous to post this.**


	2. Chapter 2: Learning the Ropes

**Chapter 2! I was so excited about this story that I began writing this before I posted the first chapter. Again, feel free to leave comments, reviews, 'I love this,' 'this sucks,' whatever. Suggestions and requests for one-shots are welcome, too. I'll do my best to write something for you.**

The night after I had gotten the number—it was a Saturday, one of the few that the Major Crimes Response Team had off, I gathered, from the relieved looks of the others when Gibbs told us he was giving us the day off—I sent Tim a text message.

 _Hi. How are you?_

 _ **Good. Fine. Tired. You?**_

 _I'm okay. Gibbs gave us the day off, so I took my daughter out to have a playdate with our neighbor's son. She's napping now._

 _ **Awww…what's her name?**_

 _Raegan. She is my daughter by my deceased husband. She's only two months old, but she can already hold a toy by herself if I give it to her and has enough attention and focus to be able to follow a mobile or bat at toys that are above her head. She's making very good progress, or so her pediatrician tells me._

 _ **That's great. How's the D.C. team?**_

 _They're all fine. Gibbs is as much the stubborn fatherly figure as per usual, Kate and Tony bicker like an old married couple (sometimes, I wish they'd just kiss and get it over with), and Ducky and Palmer are usually in the dungeons 99.8 percent of the time unless they're out in the field with the rest of us. I don't see them too much._

 _ **How well are you doing with the learning curve?**_

 _Well, I know about how to make contact with subjects, did that with LSP, but my investigating skills are a little rusty, so I'm having to re-learn some of that._

 _ **It's okay. You'll pick up on it quickly.**_

 _You think so?_

 _ **You're brilliant. Your deafness has no bearing on that.**_

 _Thanks, McGee._

 _ **It's Tim. And you're welcome.**_

 _Can I ask you something? It's really been bothering me._

 _ **Sure. What is it?**_

 _Why are we even doing this? Why did you give me your phone number?_

 _ **Why did you send me a text message then? Why**_ **I** _ **did this is because you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. I couldn't even focus with you there.**_

 _You haven't seen a lot of women then if I'm the most beautiful one you've ever seen._

 _ **Maybe I haven't, but that doesn't mean that you aren't the most beautiful one.**_

 _Why do you think that?_

 _ **Well, it started when you looked up at me with those beautiful green eyes. They reminded me of green marble with all the shades of green swirled in. My green is flat—yours is dynamic and changes with the light. Even though you never spoke, your personality burst out of you like a rainbow. It was that rainbow that drew me to you like a moth to a flame.**_

 _Awww…that's sweet. And my having a child already doesn't bother you?_

 _ **No. Raegan being here doesn't bother me. She's only three months old, so she probably doesn't remember her father, and won't remember me until she's about a year old. If our relationship even lasts that long.**_

 _What are you talking about?_

 _ **You live in Maryland, I live in Virginia. We'd have to do it long-distance, work with our personal schedules, Raegan going back and forth, and NCIS…It may not work. But we can try it and see.**_

 _Well…promise me something. You won't hurt Rae in any way. You can hurt me all you want, but you hurt my child and I will murder you. She doesn't deserve to get hurt for what I do. She's lost enough—she lost her dad, Adam._

 _ **Understood. I promise. I'm so sorry for your loss—really.**_

I smiled, satisfied with the promise. _Norfolk is pretty far from Seabrook and D.C, though. It's about a three hour drive or not even an hour flight. Visiting would be difficult, with a three month old baby in tow, and though I've flown here, there and everywhere else in my life, I have no idea how Rae will react to that long of a drive or even a flight. I've only flown with her once, when I moved here. She did okay for about half that flight._

 _ **She seems like such a good girl from what you told me. It's only a fifty minute flight, and I can be there waiting for you at the airport in case she's fussy. Which reminds me, how do you feed her? Like what do I need to have for her if she comes to visit?**_

 _I breastfeed her, so you don't need anything other than maybe an extra can of formula in case I struggle to produce, which can happen if I'm in a new place, stressed or aggravated. Other than that, probably just a Pack 'n Play and a crib for her to sleep in when we come to visit. I'll pack up and bring everything else she needs when I come._

 _ **Okay. What about next weekend? Is that okay with you?**_

 _Well, we'll see. It depends on whether Gibbs gives us the weekend off, which considering that he's given us this weekend off is unlikely to happen._

 _ **Hm…good point. What if I come and visit you then? You can work and I can look after Raegan during the day, so you don't have to pay for daycare for her.**_

 _I'm not letting you look after Rae by yourself, but you can come next weekend if you want to. Saturdays at NCIS are more relaxed than during the week, so I can bring her with me if I need to. She'll be fine._

 _ **You think so?**_

 _Yeah. Our forensic scientist, Abby, has been wanting to have a playdate with Rae. She's one of the strangest people ever, honestly. She's a Goth, but like an overly happy Goth, which is weird. I was told that she sleeps in a coffin with a teddy bear. Like me, she has a caffeine addiction, but hers is to something called Caf-Pow. It's not something I had ever heard of before I met her._

 _ **This is going to sound really weird, but I dated Abby before. It was long before now, long before I ever joined NCIS. She is very strange, but also very sweet. Our relationship was very intense, for me, and then she told me that she loved me like she loved puppies.**_

 _And you said, 'I'm done,' because you loved her differently than she did you? While we're on it, intense? Explain 'intense' to me. Like sexually intense?_

 _ **Yeah. Very sexually intense.**_

 _That's okay. Were you just nervous? I get nervous, too, with sex, probably because I'm not very good at it._

 _ **What makes you think that? You have a child with Raegan's father. Apparently, he liked however you do sex enough to get you pregnant.**_

 _Not necessarily. Pregnancy depends on biology._

 _ **Well, I know. Was Adam good at it?**_

 _He was. All I had to do was just follow him. That was easy._

 _ **Ah. So you get nervous when you have to initiate it?**_

 _Yeah. I can't flirt or initiate anything at all._

 _ **Not everyone is good at everything, you know.**_

 _I know. Talk again tomorrow?_

 _ **You got it. Goodnight, Emily.**_

 _Goodnight, Tim._

I smiled, as I placed my phone on the table next to me, covering up with a blanket that was on the back of the couch. Raegan was sleeping in her crib next to me—she was a little sickly, so I had moved her crib into the living room and slept next to her, in case she got fussy. My alarm flashed to wake me up, and it was set to go off every three hours, so Rae would get fed.

The alarm did go off at three A.M; I got up, checked on Rae, pumped, fed her, and laid her back down. Thirty minutes later, she was crying her little lungs out, was burning up, and spitting up. I decided to take her to the E.R. after figuring out that her temperature was 101, rather than call Ducky or Palmer at this hour. All I did was sent Gibbs a text message.

 _Gibbs, it's Emily. Raegan's sick. I'm taking her to the Emergency Room. Probably won't be at work tomorrow. You can rip me a new asshole later._

I packed Rae's go bag, grabbed my phone, wallet, and truck keys before heading out. It was pouring the rain, but I didn't care. I put my sick baby in her carseat, and rushed her to the E.R. The doctors admitted her immediately to the pediatric ICU, and I was left outside in the waiting room for several hours.

It was seven thirty the next morning when Gibbs came into the waiting room and sat next to me. By that point, I was utterly exhausted, sagging in my chair, but I was not leaving my baby. No way. He let me lean into his side, and signed to me. **Do you know anything yet?**

 _ **No. Nothing yet. She's got a dangerously high temperature for a two month old, was spitting up, and crying her little lungs out. Could be just about anything.**_

 **And you've been sitting here by yourself?**

 _ **Yep. I wasn't leaving my baby. No way, no how.**_

 **Mother of the year.**

 _ **Oh, please. There are mothers who would do more severe and serious things for their children.**_

 **How long have you been here?**

 _ **That would be about four hours. I rushed her in at 3:30 this morning.**_

 **Why did you not send anyone a message and tell them you were here?**

 _ **I didn't want to bother anyone.**_

 **Well, Ducky and Palmer will be here in about thirty minutes. They'll sit with Raegan until noon. You go back home and get some sleep.**

 _ **I can't sleep. I'm worried sick.**_

 **Try. Humor me.**

 _ **Gibbs, I'm being serious. How would you feel if you had a sick child, didn't know why they were sick and didn't know what you could do to help them get better?**_

 **I'd be worried senseless, too. Just like you. But you sitting here and staring at the wall isn't helping you, either. At least go over to the corner and take a power nap.**

 _ **You'll wake me if anything changes?**_

 **I will personally wake you up if anything changes, Emily. Now, go nap.**

 _ **Okay.**_ I snuck into the back corner of the waiting room, covered myself up with my jacket and went quickly to sleep…

"Jethro, what are you doing here?" Ducky asked, while Palmer stood next to him.

"Emily sent me a message about Raegan, so I came to sit with her. She was staring at the wall and shaking. Looked a bit like she'd toss her cookies, so I talked her into going to take a nap."

"Where is Raegan?"

"Still in the pediatric ICU. Temperature was at 102 when Emily took it just before she brought her here."

"That is dangerously high for a child her age. Emily made a good decision."

"No one knows anything yet. Emily sat here by herself for four hours, which is ridiculous. I got pissed off at her for that—she could've texted us for help."

"When did she get here?" Palmer asked.

"Three thirty this morning. Emily rushed her in and had been sitting out here since then. She was driving herself crazy worrying."

"As any parent would be, Jethro." Ducky pointed out.

"Yeah. So I told her that staring at the wall wasn't helping her and to go take a nap. She didn't argue with me, surprisingly enough, and she's been in that corner, asleep, since then."

"She needed the rest, Agent Gibbs." Palmer cut in.

"I agree, Mr. Palmer." Ducky answered for Gibbs, who just glared at the assistant M.E. spectacularly. "Anyway, Jethro, Mr. Palmer and I have come to help our newest Probationary Agent out; we will sit until noon, and then Anthony has volunteered to sit for the evening, and Kate is to sit with her tonight."

"You have got her pretty well covered, then, Duck."

"Yes. We do need someone to pick up food for Emily. And food with some nutritional value, not that garbage you normally eat, because she has to keep a healthy diet."

"Why?"

"She breastfeeds Raegan—I overheard her telling Agent Todd, so it's very important that she maintains a healthy diet or she'll stop producing."

"That was a piece of information I could've gone the rest of my life without knowing, Duck."

"Well, you did ask the question." Ducky sat down in the hard plastic chair across from Gibbs, and Palmer sat next to him. Emily was still laying over in the chair in the corner, snoring just a little, with a blanket over her lap. The doctor came out from the ICU, Gibbs walked immediately over to Emily, and shook her awake.

 **The doctor came out for Raegan.** Gibbs signed to me, before turning to the doctor and explaining. "Raegan's mother is deaf. She will need a translator."

"Would you like to go back and speak with the doctors with her?"

 **She wants you to go back to speak with the doctors. Would you like me to go with you to translate?**

 _ **Yeah. You can come with me, if you want.**_

 **Okay.**

I got up and Gibbs walked back with me. We walked down the long hallway that separated the waiting room from the staircase that led downstairs to the pediatric ICU rooms. My girl was in ICU room 5, and it had a pink tag taped to the door that read:

 _Raegan Grace Campbell_

 _Age: 3 mos._

 _Symptoms: Fever, Spitting Up, and Crying_

I slowly walked into the ICU room, after soaking my hands in disinfectant in case I accidently touched her. Rae's little body was packed carefully in ice, little tiny oxygen tubes running up her nose and taped to her face. I wanted to cry, honestly, but I knew that I couldn't touch her. The doctor came in, and sat down in the hard. plastic chair next to her. Gibbs and I stood next to each other against the wall, as she explained it to us. **Raegan has a severe double ear infection, which with her age can cause a severe fever. She'll be fine. We'll keep her tonight for observation, give her some Motrin, and look at her temperature again.**


	3. Chapter 3: He Said, She Said

I spent the rest of the day with Rae, then went home and tried to go to sleep. I would bring her home tomorrow, and she wasn't nearly as bad as I thought she was, but I still had trouble leaving her in that hospital. I knew that they'd take care of her-or else, I thought to myself grimly-and that was the same hospital that took injured NCIS agents so it had to be damn good, but that didn't make it any easier. She was my baby, and any time I wasn't with her or able to help her, a twang of guilt hit me right in the heart.

Yeah, I had a heart. Shocker. Shhh, don't tell anyone. People always thought that just because I was skilled in the art of killing and often called the "Angel of Death" by my family that my heart was made of stone. That wasn't always how it worked. I was simply able to compartmentalize the two halves of myself-work Emily and private Emily-exceptionally well. My one sticking point was Rae. She was mine, and I was hers, no matter what the situation was. She could show up at NCIS, right in the middle of a case, and I'd drop everything to get her and mother her. My phone suddenly flashed, showing that I had a text message from Tim.

 **DiNozzo called me this morning and told me about Raegan. Is she okay?**

 _ **Yeah. She just had an ear infection, they said, but at her age, that can cause various unrelated symptoms. Her biggest one was a very high fever that bothered me a lot. That's why I brought her to the E.R. They're keeping her until tomorrow for Motrin and observation.**_

 **You made the right decision, Em. But I suppose my word means nothing because I have no parenting experience.**

 _ **You might not, but it's good that you gave your opinion. Your opinion is important to me.**_

 **Really?**

 _ **Well, yeah. And it's too soon to start calling me Em; that is reserved for close friends and my brothers.**_

 **Oh, so I can date you long-distance but I can't call you Em yet?**

 _ **Dating me long-distance is different. I can't make you meet my brothers, or go on a actual date with you. This is us just talking a lot and we don't have to really worry about what people think or people seeing us together yet. Besides, we've only been dating for like a day. Give it some time.**_

 **Well, let me give you something to think about; I don't give a damn about what people think about this. This is all you and me. Don't make me have to get the next flight to D.C. and teach you a lesson.**

I cocked an eyebrow at my phone screen. So he wanted to both threaten me and flirt with me at the same time? Well, two could play at that game. **And what lesson would that be, Agent McGee?**

 _ **It's a lesson that involves me flying in, going to your house, taking you out to dinner, and being overly obnoxious about our relationship.**_

 **Please don't. It's not that I'm ashamed of you, it's just that I'm not sure that this will work and I don't want to parade it out for everyone to see just yet. Like you said, it might not work between us and our lives are almost completely separate from one another's as it is now. There is a certain degree of safety within that fact.**

 _ **That's true. I just...I've never been in a real relationship before, and I just want to shout it from the rooftops.**_

 **You've never been in a relationship before?**

 _ **Not really, outside of a few blind dates when I was in Johns Hopkins and MIT, but it wasn't for lack of trying by my younger sister, Sarah. She tried to set me up with every girl in a 100 mile radius.**_

 **Now, that's funny. I bet you were ridiculously uncomfortable.**

 _ **I was, yeah. A lot of the women were very intelligent, I can say that, but they were similar to Abby. They were entirely too sexually intense for me, and then they'd tell me that they loved me because I was cute and sweet, like a puppy. I didn't want to be loved like they loved puppies.**_

 **I understand. I'm the exact opposite of a blind date, though. You saw me before you knew who I was.**

 _ **That's true. I'm like the Savage Garden song, I loved you before I met you.**_

 **Awww...now that's sweet. Love you too, my favorite computer geek. I'm going to go take a nap for a while.**

 _ **You deserve a nap, my favorite sharpshooter. You going back to NCIS tomorrow?**_

 **Yeah. I'll take Raegan with me.**

 _ **Okay. Goodnight, Emily.**_

 **Goodnight, Tim.**

I put my phone down on my bedside table, cut the light off (never mind that it was only five P.M.) and went quickly to sleep. It was pure exhaustion that kept me asleep from 5 P.M. to 9 A.M. the next day; I woke up, looked at my phone, and thought _crap!_ Gibbs would tear me a new asshole if I didn't get into work. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail, grabbed my Christmas sweater and jeans, and headed to the bathroom. I looked for a second at the shower, but then shook my head. I didn't have time for that. I flung on my clothes, and soaked myself in deodorant and perfume so no one noticed the smell of unwashed human that clung to me.

I grabbed my socks and shoes, pulling them on, grabbing my phone, purse, and car keys and heading out. I wasn't a very happy person at the moment, because I needed my coffee-my hands were shaking-but I didn't have time to go and get it. I drove about 70 miles per hour, making the hour-long trip from my home in Maryland to NCIS headquarters in D.C. in thirty minutes. I rushed into the bullpen, to find Gibbs sitting there by himself. He looked up at me, signing quickly. **I went and got Raegan for you. She and Abby are having a playdate.**

 _ **Thank you. I was really tired-I slept for 16 hours-and was like, 'whoa, I overslept. Crap.'**_

 **It's okay. I told the others that you may or may not come in today. They're all off on a case right now. You can help me with tracking them from here.**

 _ **Okay. Thank you, Gibbs. Really.**_

He nodded, giving me a NCIS phone to text back and forth with the group on. The screen in front of me was brightly colored, showing them as a flashing, little orange dot going up Interstate 76 towards Harrisburg. **Where are they meant to be going, Gibbs?**

 _ **My hometown. Stillwater, Pennsylvania.**_

 **No way!**

 _ **Yes way.**_

 **Wow. Why are they in your hometown?**

 **My father's store was vandalized and they found a dead guy out in the back.**

 _ **So let's see if I got this right...your father had his store vandalized, and they found a dead guy in the back of it, who was killed as a result of what? Oh, maybe, robbery or drugs? That would be a hell of a case.**_

 **They think it's as a result of a drug deal gone wrong, but we don't know yet.**

 _ **Yee-haw. This is going to be a hell of a case.**_

 **Yeah, Campbell, it is.**

I sighed deeply. Of course, there had to be a huge case right after I got back from having a sick baby. I kept my eyes on the flashing orange dot that represented the team as I tracked them towards Harrisburg. I knew that Harrisburg was still over an hour from Stillwater, and I smirked a little. Oh, the beautiful state of Pennsylvania. They were headed right for a road closure, though, and Gibbs immediately got onto his radio. I could read his lips. _US-11 North is closed. Take an exit and find US-322 North. It will lead you straight to Interstate 81 North._

He must've gotten whatever answer or response he wanted, because he nodded, satisfied. I smiled, too, and kept watching. Gibbs was the one giving them commands, I was just making sure that they got there safely. It wasn't like I could be there with them, so I made myself responsible for their safety. I always had to have responsibility in some form. I kept watching silently, as their speed brought their little dot closer to Minersville, a little town that I had personally never heard of, but Gibbs probably had. Gibbs suddenly reached behind his computer monitor, and gently slid a Starbucks cup beside me.

Thank Jesus.

He was officially the best boss ever. I smiled and then looked at him curiously. **Does this have milk in it?**

 _ **Nope. I made sure to get almond milk put in it.**_

 **Thanks. Regular milk can kill me.**

 _ **Dairy allergy?**_

 **Yeah. Severe one. It causes me a lot of issues with food.**

 _ **I bet it does.**_

The flashing dot caught my attention again, and I watched it carefully as they took exit 116 for Pennsylvania State Route 901 West towards Minersville. They then turned onto Main Street, then kept left to Lavelle Road and then right onto Pennsylvania State Route 54 East. They traveled 2 miles before turning left onto 61 North. The NCIS Medical Examiner's van was keeping a close tail on the regular NCIS vehicle, probably because Ducky threatened to put Jimmy in a body cooler if he got them lost. The three main NCIS Agents led the M.E.s into Bloomsburg and then into Stillwater.

 **Oh, the beautiful, but frozen hellhole that is the state of Pennsylvania.** I signed, with a snarky smile.

 _ **Easy, Campbell. My dad will hurt you for saying that.**_

 **What's he gonna do? Beat me with a stick?**

 _ **No. Too primitive. He'll just yell at you for a while.**_

 **I'm deaf, Gibbs. I can ignore him.**

 _ **Good point. Might need to tell him that before he starts yelling.**_

 **Probably. So is he okay?**

 _ **Yeah. He beat the hell out of the vandals, but didn't know that the dead guy was dead, so he's been put in the county jail until we figure out what happened.**_

 **Ah, ain't that some shit. I'm really sorry, Gibbs.**


	4. Chapter 4: Stillwater

**Author's Note: I know I should just shut up and let you read, but I have some explaining to do first. This chapter is just my Stillwater, PA plot bunnies all mixed up into one. It is very loosely connected to "Heartland" (S6E4) if it had happened much earlier and differently. This is also going to probably be my last upload for a couple days. I got a new computer and my Microsoft Word (which I use to write my stories with) is not functioning at the moment so I'm having to use what I have written previously and I'm down to my last previously written section. I also go back to college in six days to begin my final semester, so the caffeine-fueled rush is going to begin again and the updates will most definitely slow down. I will do my best to update this story once a week, but don't roast and flame me if I don't. Anyway, happy reading!**

Gibbs was overly snappy, I noticed, over the first few days the rest of the team were in Stillwater. I chalked it up to him being stuck here with me and Abby, which wasn't the smallest feat in itself. I was lucky that I was deaf, because Gibbs had told me that Abby blared her punk rock music, and it was so loud that I could feel it vibrating everything in the bullpen-even the computer monitors. I imagined what Tim would do if he knew that computers were in danger. Probably have a heart attack from anxiety. I smirked at the thought, as I'd be the only one able to give him CPR. It might even be enjoyable, if it wasn't such a stressful situation.

My long blonde hair was pulled up into a ponytail, and I was dressed in a tan sweater and jeans as I sorted through the police reports that had been faxed over from Stillwater. The officers who had responded to Gibbs' dad's call had taken some amazing notes on it, I could give them that, and some of them were fascinating to read through. They were all down to the detail, and read like books, but then again, I was a dork so take that with a grain of salt. I had been sorting for an hour, when my phone flashed. It was Tim.

 **How're things going?**

 _ **They're going. How are things with you?**_

 **Boring me out of my mind. Cases, cases, cases. Sometimes, I wonder if the Navy hates me.**

 _ **Why would the Navy hate you?**_

 **Because they put me in this hellhole doing cases and computer work all day.**

 _ **Well, you could come here and be in this one, but Gibbs is in a mood today, so you might not want to deal with him. It's just me, Abby, him, and Rae today, so he's a little snappy from being stuck in here with all this estrogen.**_

 **I'd be fine with being stuck with your and Rae's estrogen.**

 _ **Really? Why do you say that?**_

 **Because you and Rae are rapidly becoming the most important women in my life, honestly. Who am I kidding, you're the only women in my life besides my sister, Sarah and my mother.**

 _ **I figured that out. Oh, and I have a question. Will I need to make a pit stop at the grocery store when I come?**_

 **We'll probably need to, but I'm good for right now. I can cook, too, if that's what you're getting at.**

 _ **You're very perceptive.**_

 **Curtesy of the United States Marines.**

 _ **I thank them.**_

 **Yeah. That was one good thing they taught me. The hyper-anxiety from sitting and waiting on targets not so much.**

 _ **I would say not.**_

Gibbs suddenly got up and started pacing again. He was getting on my nerves, and people didn't tend to get on my nerves unless they wanted to be exterminated. I signed quickly. **This is your warning, Gibbs. You're irritating me. Please quit.**

 _ **What are you going to do, Campbell? Beat me with a stick?**_

 **No. Shoot you with a Sig.**

 _ **If you can reach me.**_

 **I can shoot and hit a target at 2,000 yards. Good luck running away from me.**

 _ **Bad idea.**_

 **And yours was better?**

 _ **I never said that.**_

 **Just quit.** I signed, and then got back to work. It was silent for an hour, before Gibbs got a call and we had to go. It was in Stillwater, too, and I rolled my eyes. What the actual hell was going on this week? It seemed like everything was just going to hell in a handbasket. **Let's take my car. It's got a full tank of gas.**

 _ **Okay.**_

We both got into my car, me in the passenger seat for once. Gibbs drove my car at seventy miles an hour through D.C. and then up I-270 towards Frederick, and then we switched in Frederick, and I drove us up US-15 and on I-76 to Harrisburg. We switched back in Harrisburg and he drove us to Stillwater. The team was at Gibbs' dad's store, still investigating the vandals and the killing of the young man. Ducky and Palmer had already taken the body back to wherever it was that they were going to autopsy him.

DiNozzo was snapping pictures of the scene, keeping the camera lens pointed at the crude graffiti that was painted on the window. I immediately began to log and bag evidence, while Gibbs helped DiNozzo take pictures of the scene. It took me three hours to get everything bagged, tagged, and put away. Gibbs and I found a hotel to stay at for the night, before I collapsed on the bed, and fell asleep immediately.

The next morning, I texted Tim again. **Good morning, my favorite computer geek.**

 _ **Good morning, my favorite sharpshooter. How are you feeling?**_

 **Pretty crappy. I think Palmer had a slight fever within a cold, and gave it to me.**

 _ **Party foul.**_

 **I know. I'll be okay. It's just a little bit of a fever and some sniffles.**

 _ **How high is your fever?**_

 **About 99.5. Not bad. I took an Ibuprofen, so I should be okay. My body tends to do fevers rather than chills with colds, though (so does Rae), so I'm sweating a little bit.**

 _ **Drink something cold, cool down, and then bundle up and go outside. I have a surprise for you.**_

 **A surprise?**

 _ **Yeah. I had to get a birthday present for my girl. It is your birthday, isn't it?**_

 **It is. I'm surprised you remember that. It's also Christmas Eve, so Merry Christmas.**

 _ **Merry Christmas, my princess. Where are you?**_

I immediately blushed. He really knew how to make me feel like a teenager again. **I'm in Stillwater. Apparently, they needed some help, so Gibbs and I made the four hour drive to help them out. This is going to be a difficult case, so we'll be here a while.**

 _ **Where's Rae?**_

 **With Abby. She'll take care of her, or there'll be a problem.**

 _ **Understood. I have a question. Will you be my date for New Year's Eve?**_

 **Of course I will. I'd love to.**

 _ **Now, go outside and see your surprise.**_


End file.
